Bounce
by kukumalu01
Summary: Quiet interactions between the Teiko Middle School basketball regulars speak the loudest sometimes. Kind of like Kuroko, ne? Mainly Generation of Miracles. Drabble fic.
1. Chapter 1

**[disclaimer: do not own Kuroko no Basuke]**

**1 **

Rain pelted down hard against the windows of the bus, making slanted white marks on the foggy glass. The occupants of the said bus were in a comfortable, sleepy state. Most of them were sleeping, with their Teiko jackets thrown over their bruised and sore bodies as makeshift blankets.

Right at the back of the bus, a long-limbed boy was sleeping horizontally, taking up all five premium seats. He had his bag under his head for a pillow and one dark-skinned arm over his eyes to block out the somewhat dim fluorescent lights.

"Aominecchi~" piped up a voice. It was worn out at the edges from tiredness, but the natural brightness came through all the same. A face peeked out from in between the two seats at the back of the bus, looking at Aomine Daiki curiously. Blond bangs fell into golden eyes.

If it had been any other person, Aomine would not have responded, leaving them to assume he was sleeping. But since it was Kise Ryouta, he grunted back a "Hnn…" in response.

In a whisper, "That was fun. The most fun I had in a training camp."

It would have been an effort to think of a suitable reply, apart from a sarcastic snipe with reference to the exhaustion from the training menu that seemed to seep into their bones. Then, a few neurones sparked.

Aomine's eyes opened a slit, unusually pensive. Sports would usually be a walk in the park for Kise. Not basketball. Or rather – not Teiko's basketball.

He did the first thing that came to mind. He stretched out his hand and flicked in the space between the seats without looking. Predictably, Kise gave a sudden yelp. He appeared above his seat, his height nearly making him knock into the bus ceiling, holding both hands to his forehead. He threw Aomine a reproachful look.

"So mean!"


	2. Chapter 2

**[disclaimer: do not own Kuroko no Basuke]**

**2**

"Murasakibara-kun. I cannot open my locker."

Atsushi Murasakibara slowly looked up at the sound of his name, one hand still digging into the bag of chips. There was a surprise prize inside one out of every thousand bag of chips; a laminated, signed photograph of the celebrity endorsing the food brand. It was a long shot, but their vice-captain Shintaro Midorima had duly informed him earlier that he would experience exceptional luck today.

"Your legs, Murasakibara-kun."

It was disconcerting to hear the disembodied voice in the otherwise empty locker room. It was still an hour to official basketball practice and most boys were still in class. It so happened that Murasakibara's form teacher did not come to school and they were released earlier than usual for homeroom class. Murasakibara's brow furrowed together. Then, his fingers hit something hard.

"I got it!" he exclaimed, fishing out the card between his index and middle finger.

He looked up from it.

Even sitting down, Murasakibara towered over most of his peers. This was no exception. A pair of expressionless blue eyes stared back at him levelly, in an almost petulant manner.

"Ahhh!"

The purple-haired boy scooted back onto the bench, clutching his bag of chips closer to his chest.

The voice remained as solemn and flat as ever. "Thank you."

Kuroko Tetsuya ignored the stare. He proceeded to fiddle with the door of the locker that Murasakibara had been propping his feet up against. The sound of chips rustling in the cellophane resumed, albeit slower.

Then, "Kuro-chin, are you mad at me?"

A gentle thud indicated that the school bag was shifted over to find his basketball uniform to change into.

"I'm sorry I said you are short yesterday." Murasakibara was still nonchalantly eating his chips as he apologised, maybe he even rolled his eyes. "Aka-chin told me to apologise."

It was an evil moment to stay quiet, and then Kuroko shut his locker door calmly and turned to Murasakibara. "I wasn't mad at you," he said simply. But there was the lilt to his voice now that sounded more natural.

The taller boy's face brightened immediately like a child. He put out a hand to ruffle down Kuroko's hair cheerfully.


	3. Chapter 3

**[disclaimer: do not own Kuroko no Basuke]**

**3**

Behind the drawn blinds of the windows, the evening sky was a watercolour splash of red, orange and yellow tones. The gentle hum of the jet engines was blocked out cleanly by the classical music that played from hidden loudspeakers.

Crimson hair fell into closed eyes. Akashi Seijuro was leaning against the plush leather seat, arms folded. His breathing was even. It could have been the shadow from his hair under the dim yellow lights, but there were faint smudges under his eyes. He would be suffering from jet lag when he turned up at school tomorrow.

The young Akashi was fully prepared for his first day of middle school. A nondescript school bag was tucked inside the hidden compartment under his seat. The bag was not branded, like the several dozen others that were bought by various people under employment of his father. Akashi had discarded them immediately. This bag was old, but well taken care of. His name was monogrammed on the inside of the left strap in tiny white letters.

Akashi was someone who got what he wanted. However, he obviously had gotten into a disagreement with his father during that trip. A few hours later, Akashi was staring unblinkingly at the black limousine by the curb. Displeasure seemed to radiate from his small form. The flashy vehicle was to bring him to Teiko Junior High, which his father had gone in his humble days, from the airport. The family chauffeur stood respectfully by the open passenger door, waiting.

The car ride was silent.

The driver looked at him once in the rearview mirror. Akashi did not bother looking out at the window, never mind it was his first day back in Japan after a long trip abroad. He was looking down, his bag in his lap, with a crease between his eyebrows.

The school gates were going to close. Akashi stepped out of the car. He looked subtly different. More assured. "Don't drop me off from now on," he ordered. They were his first words to the driver, whose professionalism commanded him only a raise of an eyebrow at the sudden announcement after the hours of silence. "I should at least have some freedom in school."

The driver inclined his head and drove off. Nearing the mansion, with no one to hear it, he let a soft sigh escape. The young master's father was not going to be happy to hear that. There was no chance an Akashi child would be seen on public transportation like a commoner.

But maybe it was time for Akashi Seijuro to find his way into the world by himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**[disclaimer: do not own Kuroko no Basuke]**

**4**

Basketball shoes made squeaky sounds on the sweaty gym floor. Heavy panting filled the silence punctuated by the staccato thuds of the basketball hitting the wooden planks.

Akashi stood near the benches, arms folded. The expression on his face was usually impassive when dealing with the training of the second and third string. There were certain practice days when the coach didn't need to attend, so Akashi took over as overall in-charge. Nervous glances occasionally passed by his direction, but the quick glare in return forced the members to turn back to the game immediately.

When the practice match was over, he called them to attention. "There will be practice match against XXX Junior High next week," Akashi informed them. "I will be monitoring your performance this week with Coach. The chosen team will be notified on the day itself, so don't slack off!"

"Yes!"

The members trooped to the locker rooms, most faces lit up by the prospect of a challenge. They took longer time than usual; their legs wobbling from overexertion in a match that they saw the need to impress their captain. Akashi allowed them the extra time. They deserved it.

_Thud. Thud._

The first-year captain lifted up his head, and the shadows lightened to reveal crimson eyes scanning the basketball court. A small blunette player had a basketball in his hands. His pale skin had a clear sheen of sweat… which meant that–

"I was here the whole time," Kuroko mentioned lightly, by way of hello.

Akashi blinked. Choosing to ignore the comment (but not the slight upwards curve on the blunette's mouth, who knew Akashi would do that), he said, "If you're eager to play, I can set up extra training for you."

_That_ wiped the smile off. "I'd have to decline," Kuroko replied flatly. They both knew that the current training regime was already stretching him beyond limit.

"Then what are you doing here?"

Just yesterday, Midorima was measuring the basketball courts with his footsteps – Akashi didn't bother to ask why. The day before that, Aomine had told Kise the secret to Murasakibara's co-operation, and the three of them had spent the entire evening throwing hoops and betting that whoever had the least score had to treat the others to dessert.

Both parties had been chased out by the janitor, who relayed his complaints to the basketball captain without mincing his words. Akashi had his hands full with the first string players, and he was wary about the latest addition of the blunette.

"Practicing." It was said in a matter-of-fact way, without the usual wariness of a member speaking to the captain. As if to prove his point, Kuroko aimed –

_Thud_.

"Don't overexert your body," Akashi commanded coolly, landing lightly on his feet. The basketball he had pushed down, veering its course, rolled to the side of the benches. "Your training menu is tailored to your unique playing style, to help you reach your potential. Right now, you cannot cope with more."

There was barely a flinch to the harsh words. Blue eyes stared without expression into crimson. "Did I say something wrong?" It was a rhetorical question.

"No," admitted Kuroko. He bowed his head in apology, and then wiped the sweat off his brow with his armband. "But I've already been here for two hours."

"!"

Akashi squashed his first instinct ('_where are my scissors!_') but the calculative part of him was rapidly sizing up the blunette. To be able to move agilely after their intensive practice yesterday showed his improvement in stamina. They would need to make adjustments to his training menu. Kuroko was growing as a player.

If it was in his character, Akashi would have smiled. Even if the tug of his lips did betray him, the gym lights suddenly dimmed. A yellow outline of light emitting from behind a door appeared.

"YOU KIDS!"

The two smallest players of the first string turned their heads simultaneously. A man in a dark green jumpsuit and a matching cap shook his fist in their direction. "WE CLOSE THE GYM AT NINE O'CLOCK, NO EXCEPTIONS!"

The janitor pulled down the brim of his cap and squinted. "Didn't I talk to you this morning? Yet you're the only one here?"

_Only one?_

Akashi glanced beside him. Not only did the blunette vanish, but the basketball had disappeared too. The boy was _fast_.

And (for pulling off a disappearing act), he was going to have his training doubled.


	5. Chapter 5

**[disclaimer: do not own Kuroko no Basuke]**

**5**

Teiko Junior High's basketball vice-captain had a lot on his plate. He stayed behind until night for basketball practice, and then meetings with the manager, the captain, the coach and the teachers – sometimes one after another. On other days, he poured over his textbooks at home or in cram school to maintain his excellent grades. When he had time, he went scavenger hunting in his attic for lucky items (his grandparents liked to travel and had a knack of bringing back eccentric presents). What was relaxing?

"Have you completed your punishment laps?"

Murasakibara pulled a long face. "Mido-chin~"

There were thunder clouds above Midorima's head. He pushed up his spectacles, looking down severely at the tall boy sitting along the benches. "I came to the gym early to supervise your laps."

"Hai, hai~" A long sigh was released. As Murasakibara stood up and lifted his arms across his head to warm-up, a thought struck him. "Ne, Mido-chin, you haven't eaten breakfast yet?"

Midorima was already sitting down, holding a stopwatch in his hand. "What?" he snapped. He was already focused on the laps – more so than Murasakibara to be honest.

Murasakibara considered his vice-captain for a long moment, stretching his legs out. "Have some cake," he suggested. He didn't have to move from his spot to stretch out his hands, digging into his open satchel to grab a box. He threw it to the green-haired boy, who caught it out of reflex.

There was a disconcerted pause. "…thank you…"

"Less laps?" came the hopeful response.

A tick appeared. "NO!"


End file.
